


The Crown

by LordAvanti



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fanfiction, Ragnarssons - Freeform, Series, The Crown, Vikings, vikingsseries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-10-30 16:40:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10880796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordAvanti/pseuds/LordAvanti
Summary: Edlynn is the firstborn daughter of the king in Deira, a kingdom within Northumbria. With a father who doesn't support her claim she is challenged to seek her adventures elsewhere. But when the fearsome raidingparty from Ivar The Boneless lays notice on Deira and capture their princess, she is torn between two oppisits, being the rightfull heir to her throne in Deira or being the princess of the great and fearless Ivar the Boneless.





	1. Chapter 1

The lingering touth of his fingers burns on the surface of my skin, the deep bleu sensetive look of his eyes colors my mind while the whispers of those last words challenge me to make that choise. The scars of his acts cover my body and still ... I'm longing for seeing him again. I'm desperate, captivate in his storm, torn between his emotions and my thoughts I'm looking for some kind of salvation ...

Sorry father, for I have sinned.


	2. Some legends come around,

_So do not fear, for I am with you;_   
_do not be dismayed, for I am your God._   
_I will strengthen you and help you;_   
_I will uphold you with my righteous right hand._

The sweet sensation the roses released turned a smile on my lips. My fingertips caressing the blood red leaves of the flower, looking at the deadly thorns under all that beauty. I imagined how life could be like this. The one moment something appeared as stunning and graceful as this rose, turning the next moment into the thorn that could sting me right to death. His dazzling smell capturing me, stunned by the deadly beauty it showed. My finger rested on one of the thorns before my eyes traveled up to the courtyard. A horse galloped in, a man curled up in the sadle, hardly finding any balance while the horse walked around, wandering about his course to take. 'Sir?' I asked, not coming through by the sound his body made when he felled of the horse. I got up, my fingers clenshing on he lower part of my dress while I started running over to the courtyard where the man dropped down. From the marks on his armor I noticed he wasn't from here, he came from Wessex and it looked like he had came a long way. My body felled down at his side, looking for the wounds that caused the stains of red on his armor. 'Call in a physician.' I said to one of the servant girls that followed me everywhere. The soldier grabbed for my arm and I startled, looking down to him again. 'The lord is here, god will protect your soul.' I whispered comforting to him, knowing that this kind of wounds weren't treatable.  
'God can't help.' He choked, blood dripping over his lips while he hustled to tell me more. I closed in on him, scared for his injuries, scared for his life, scared for his words. 'It's them.' He whispered.  
'Who?' My voice was hardly more than the fear I reflexed in my eyes.  
'Them, the pagans, the brotherhood,' he sucked in another breath, holding on to my arm. I grabbed his blooded hands and pushed them against my chest, comforting him in his last moment. 'the boneless.' He murmured before choking in his own blood. The boneless ... my eyes traveled up to the guards running closer while I only tried to unravel his words. The Boneless.  
'Princess Edlynn.' The familiar touch of someone pulling me away waked me out of my dreams, looking down to the body again, making a prayer to God, may he rest in peace.

The stories always had punched into our walls but now it seemed like the treat really came closer. Some soldiers brought his dead body away; I hardly noticed the blood on my hands and dress as I followed the guards inside. 'Edlynn.' Somebody grabbed me with my arm, I turned my head and looked up to the man standing in front of me. There wasn't a shade of green more comforting that the color he wore in his eyes. There wasn't even a touch more familiar than his. But it was forbidden so I pulled my arm out of his grip. 'Are you alright?' He asked with a concerned look over my body. I looked away from him to the guards marching through the hallway, scared that anybody would notice the affection that I and Hendric shared. He pulled me on my hand around the corner, into the shades of a corner wall.  
'That man died.' I began. He cupped my face, pulling my head up so I had to look in those amazingly green eyes of him. His thumb left that sensation behind while he stroked my cheek and I closed my eyes.  
'Are you alright?' Hendric asked again.  
'Now I am.' I smiled, opening my eyes and looking back to him. 'My father will need you. If they are coming we need to be prepared.'  
'They won't penetrate these walls.' He assured me. He took my hands in his and placed a kiss against my knuckles before he let go of me and walked away.  
'Hendric.' I rushed after him, in a more appropriate way. 'He said something about the brotherhood.' I began, looking aside to how he stroke his blond long hair back over his head before his hand found his place again on his sword.  
'The brotherhood.' He repeated, not knowing what it meant.  
'The Boneless.' That word. That name made me shiver and I didn't knew what it meant and to be honest, did I wanted to know?  
'Ivar.'  
'Who is he?' I asked curious. Hendric stopped and turned his body. He knew I wasn't welcome on this kind of meetings, I was a girl, girls didn't rule. My father hated me for being the firstborn, being the naive girl that he thought I was.  
'He is a son of Ragnar, a cripple. He came to Wessex just before Ragnar died.' That conclusion made Hendric walk again, a little faster. I did my best to keep the pace but with his length and steps I almost needed to run after him.  
'Why does he come back?'  
'To take revenge on the dead of his father. And I think he brought his brothers also.'  
'The brotherhood.' I whispered, remembering the words that dying man said earlier, it explained everything.  
'Edlynn, are you alright?' I looked up to my brother and forced a smile on my lips.  
'I will be fine, thank you brother.' I comforted his concern. He checked me over to be sure and it warmed me to know at least some family here accepted me for who I was. Having a younger brother wasn't always easy, certainly not when he was encouraged by our father to take my rightful place on the throne.  
'You should clean up.' Elian said, squeezing my hand before he turned to Hendric who stood still aside me. I kept my gaze down, awaiting their conversation. 'We need to discuss some things. The King is waiting for us.'  
'Edlynn spoke about the brotherhood, the boneless.'  
'The soldier said that to me shortly before he passed away.' I immediately went in on it, hoping my brother would let me join in this meeting.  
'They come to avenge their father's dead.' Hendric announced. Elian shrugged and turned around to the throne room.  
'Than it is nothing of our concern, we didn't kill their father.' The smile Elian showed was one in confident. And in some way he was right but why should that rider came here if it wasn't for warning us. I looked how my brother walked into the room before I looked aside to Hendric again.  
'I come look for you afterwards.'  
'Be careful.' I whispered. He smiled and bowed before he walked away and I stood their all alone in the hallway.

The servants foresaw me from a new dress, I braided my hair over my shoulder and walked back out of my room before they had any change to offer me something to eat. I wanted to know what my father would say about it, I wanted to learn more about those pagans. So instead of eavesdropping on the meeting I looked for the only person in Deira who knew about those pagans more than anybody else, the high priest. I lifted my dress while walking the stairs down to the cellars. They stored here every story there was to be told. My fingers took a grip around the little cross I wore around my neck while walking through the dusty hallway to one of the oldest storage rooms Deira had. 'Father.' I announced. The old man startled up from his reading, a smile spreading over his lips when he saw me standing in the room.  
'My child, come in.' He gestured me into the room. I bow a little and walked further, eyes traveling over the many books, dusty parchment rolled up into the walls. He took my hand as soon as I was within reach, inviting me to sit down aside him. 'What brings you here princess Edlynn?' He asked as concerned as he always way.  
'A rider approached from Wessex, badly wounded. He announced the coming of the pagans. The brotherhood, the boneless. He died.'  
'Did you pray for his soul?'  
'Offcourse father, I wish I could have saved him.'  
'He died in the arms of a princess, you saved him.' He confirmed the weakness within my voice.  
'I like to learn more, about those pagans.' I softly asked. Normally they wouldn't bother sharing stories with princesses but I knew that the high priest aside me would tell me a great many things if I just asked the right questions. He slowly closed his book, the dust sneaked from between the pages, dancing in the light shining through the little window. I looked at it for a while, admitting beauty in even the smallest things.  
'If the pagans come we can't stop them and we certainly will lose something.' The high priest began. 'Ragnar Lothbrok never lost a fight, even when he hanged there in that cage he won something.' The priest pointed up. I followed his finger, imagining the fearsome Viking leader just before he died. 'He warned us, I was there when the snakes took his life.'  
'What kind of warning?' I asked, totally wrapped up in the image of that Viking king.  
'I shall not enter Odin's hall with fear. There I shall wait for my sons to join me. And when they do, I will bask in their tales of triumph.' The priest said before he looked back to me. 'That where his exact words, the last he ever spoke.'  
'The brotherhood, his sons?' I asked softly, knowing the answer of that question already.  
'He came here to die, he came here with his son so he would witness this land before turning back home.'  
'Ivar?'  
'Ivar the Boneless, yes.' The little smile there maybe was on his face died away, sunken in his own memories he looked to the dancing dust in the light.  
'Did you met him?' I barley dared to ask. The priest startled up again, nodding before he scratched his grey hair.  
'There is something with that boy. Something I can't describe. He didn't knew the purpose of his father's visit here but looking into those vivid blue eyes made one thing clear, he wasn't here to continue the work of his father. If he comes and if what that soldier said is true than we all are in danger.' The priest explained, laying his hand around mine again. I swallowed, looking at him like he just told me my own dead was upon me. 'I don't know how those others sons are but I truly believe the words Ragnar Lothbrok said, they will triumph. Maybe they already did.'  
'What should we do?' I asked careful.  
'Ask God for help my sweet child, pray that Deira will be kept in the dark, that none of them notice the temptations this kingdom holds.' He said strongly. I grabbed courage out of his strong words, placed a kiss on his forehead and stood up.  
'Thank you father, I will pray.' I promised him before walking away from the bench he sat on.  
'Edlynn.' He said after me. I turned around, fingers tangled together against my stomach. 'You are the princess of Deira. Whatever comes, know that you are in a very dangerous position if it comes to bargaining. I don't want to scare you, I just need you to be prepared.' He smiled softly, not as comforting as earlier. I needed to be prepared, for what? For fight? For dead? For sorrow? Would god punish me like this after a lifetime of loyalty? I didn't even knew if I needed to be afraid of my own God, stories of theirs were far more greater.


	3. The faith of God,

"Prayer is not asking. It is a longing of the soul.   
It is daily admission of one’s weakness.   
It is better in prayer to have a heart without words   
than words without a heart."

It was nothing more than a slide hint of panic coursing through Deira. The soldiers of my father pulled out to the far out farmer villages to deliver the message everyone would get, a curfew at night to protect every single soul against the Vikings. After sending a scout out to Wessex to confirm the warning that wounded soldier told me things changed. I was there when he came back, kneeling down before my father’s feet. ‘What news?’ My father asked him. Elian stood on his other side, he gave me a comforting smile but even I could see that he was tensed about all of this. Deira never looked for a fight with the Vikings. Yes they crossed lands on Northumbria, for more than once but they never crossed Deira.   
‘My lord, King Aella has fallen.’ That were the words he said, causing that silence to run around all by himself in the throne room.   
‘How?’ My father demanded. The scout looked stressed, wanted to talk to fast causing him to trip over his own words.   
‘It’s good, you are within God’s protection.’ I comforted his unease. He looked a me and forced a smile on his lips.   
‘Thank you princess Edlynn.’   
‘Speak up.’ My father interrupted the moment. I shot him a short glare before obeying his rule and looking down to the ground. Sometimes I wished I could do more than only this, sometimes I wished I could travel, see some adventure, do something that wasn’t bound to that throne. I was quite sure my father wouldn’t mind me leaving but Elian would and I wasn’t planning on leaving him behind for my sweet lingering for freedom.   
‘The sons of Ragnar Lothbrok came to take revenge. They talk about the great heathen army sire, the biggest army there is ever seen. They defeated the king and,’ he felt silent, looking at his own feet, processing his own words. ‘They cut him open, hang him up for everybody to see.’   
‘Did you see that yourself?’ Elian asked generally concerned. The scout nodded fast.   
‘Some farmer brought me there. I think he was alive when they did it.’ He explained. I closed my eyes by the image of that king butchered like an animal, hung up for everybody to see.   
‘And where are those pagans now?’   
‘They fought King Ecbert, he got defeated to. The army has split up sire, a part of it stayed at the castle of King Ecbert in Wessex, the other part just crossed the border to Northumbria.’   
‘They are coming here.’ My brother murmured. I looked aside to my father who rested his head in his hand, overthinking every single word that scouts just had spoken. ‘How far out are they? How many?’ My brother asked. He was the second commander over the army Deira had, it was a logical move for him to consider a possible attack, even if he was younger than me.   
‘I don’t know, they crossed the border two days ago. They are with a hundred men, maybe a little more. The biggest part stayed behind.’ The scout answered.   
‘Send soldiers to the farmers and villages outside the wall, I want a curfew, everyone needs to be inside the walls on sundown.’ Elian nodded on the words our father spoke before he walked away. Father dismissed the scouts so him and me were the only ones present in the room. ‘You better pray to God daughter, if we want to overcome this.’ He noticed without looking up to me.  
‘Offcourse father.’ I made a small bow and walked out of the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

‘In the name of the father, the son and the holy spirit, amen.’ My voice echoed through the church. I looked up to the statue, hanging above the altar on the wall. ‘May you protect us, may you support us, may you ease our pain to come. Thank you my lord.’ I closed my eyes, resting my forehead on my folded hands before I stood up and walked silence back out. This church would be a beacon for many people the few couple of days. My eyes traveled up to the building, the most treasured possession Deira has, his church.   
‘Princess.’ A man nodded friendly, I forced a smile on my lips, nodding before I walked back to the castle. A sudden hand pulled me off the street behind a wooden shed.   
‘Hendric.’ I hissed, looking back to the street, hoping nobody has seen this and making conclusions about it.   
‘Can we meet, later?’ He asked. I felt his fingertips resting on the skin of my neck.   
‘We can’t, there is a curfew now.’   
‘Please, break the rules. I need to see you.’ He looked troubled in some kind of way. I pulled his hands away from my , cupping them in my hands before looking up in those green eyes I always adored since he joined the ranks in my father’s army.   
‘Hendric, what is it?’ I asked with the most of my patience. This situation freaked me out but for the good of myself I didn’t let it come to my heart. Aside that, the people counted on me.   
‘It’s feel like this are my last moments with you, and I want to spend them somewhere nobody is around to judge.’   
‘If you are afraid of what will come you should at least show a little faith in God.’ I tilted my head, smiling. He rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall so I was draw away from any kind of eyes who could ask questions. I took a strain of his blond hair between my fingers and let my eyes drift away in his. ‘Good, I will come.’ I gave in.   
‘The shed from my uncle, sundown, I need you.’ He place a kiss on my lips and my hand traveled up to his face, closing my eyes when I felt his sweet taste.   
‘Go.’ I pushed him away. He looked over the streets before running off, leaving me with that soft desire, touching my own lips eager to feel his again.

Telling father I felt a little unwell was easy, convincing Elian was another thing. He send a physician to check on me. Who advised me to stay in bed, what I did until the sun started to travel down and I cloaked myself in black. Getting out would be the hard part, a part where Hendric being a soldier didn’t had any trouble with. I looked up to the walls, I could get up but then the question was how to get down again. I pulled the cloak over my head, passing some soldiers before sneaking behind one of the watchtowers. If I was correct and Elian never changed it there should be a small tunnel underneath the wall. He digged it once for fun, always playing he tried to escape the castle of the enemy … or getting in to safe me. The memories gave me a smile while running over to one of storage rooms aside the wall. I knew they were empty this time of the year so I wasn’t scared to be seen. I moved a cradle and looked to the whole, smiling like an idiot. ‘Thank you brother.’ I whispered, crawling my way through. Luckily I took one of my less important dresses because I wasn’t sure how I had to explain this kind of dirt. The shed of his uncle laid on little more than a ten minute walk, what was good because at night it could cool down very fast. When I arrived I saw his horse stand, pulling some grass out the ground. He startled if I showed up out of the woods. ‘It’s alright boy.’ I petted him on the neck before entering the shed, pulling the cloak from my head as soon as I saw Hendric standing.   
‘You made it.’ He reacted in relieve of seeing me. I bowed and walked over him to be immediately embraced by his strong arms.   
‘You still don’t have faith in God?’ I asked, teasing him a little.   
‘I only have faith in you princess.’ His fingers followed the nerves in my hands up to my arms. I smiled, getting on my toes to tenderly embracing his face. ‘Aren’t you afraid?’ He asked, our faces so close together. I studied the soft green hint in his eyes before pulling up my shoulders.  
‘If it’s meant to be so be it. I’m afraid; I just don’t want to let it get a hold of me. Neither should You.’ I looked down to the place your hand rested on his heart. I folded my fingers together, gripping his shirt in one fist.   
‘I won’t.’ He promised. His hand curled around my neck before he placed his lips on mine. Hendric was the first I had and he was always so gentle and patient with my lack in experience. I stronghold my body to his by embracing his neck with one arm. His other hand supported the small of my back. I fell all kinds of things in that moment, not only his touch came through so sensitive, the pressure of his lips spread the warmth throughout my body. I felt my breathing getting more unsteady when he pulled back, resting his forehead against mine. ‘Do you think your father will me let you marry you one day?’ He asked softly. I bited my lip, suppressing that childish in love smile of mine.   
‘Maybe you save me one day. Be my knight in shining armor.’ I whispered.   
‘I wish I could be more with you than we already are.’   
‘I can’t before marriage.’ You protested tender. It was a Christian thing, no intimacy before marriage. I turned my head when I heard his horse snort outside. My eyes when to the shed door, focused.   
‘He is easily spooked Edlynn.’ He eased my restlessness. It wasn’t because I ran away that I wouldn’t be paranoid about everything I heard. Hendric pressed his lips against my neck, pulling all my attention right back to him. I leaded his lips back up and kissed more passionate than I did before. His hands started to explore my body and I sunk away in the sweet embrace he gave me. Until I heard the crack of wood, galloping hooves and I jerked my head around. ‘Did he just take off?’ Hendric said to himself, leaving me on my spot while walking to the door. But that door opened on his own, trailing the large body in of a man covered in dirt and tattoos, braided hair and an axe. I never met a Viking before but this was enough to know just that. What kicked in the most was that they were way closer than the scout sad earlier today.   
‘Look at this.’ He spoke in some weird language. Being a princess you learned a thing or two, Norse wasn’t among it. Hendric shielded me off, protecting my body with his but even I with my poor army knowledge knew he wasn’t a fit against three of them because they kept coming. ‘Get them out.’ He gestured to the two others. I didn’t knew what he was saying but them coming at the both of us said enough. Hendric pulled his sword, which he loose as soon as one of them pulled it out of his hands, not even considering the wound it could cause. My heart started racing when they pulled Hendric away from me.   
‘Edlynn.’ He grabbed for my hand but not before they pulled me by my hair out. I grabbed for the little cross around my neck, praying for myself and Hendric, hoping they would spare us. I never felt that the tears started running down my cheeks, that my hands shacked, that the pain in my hair was nothing in comparing with the fear in my chest. They pushed me on my knees and I looked aside to Hendric with who they did the same. As soon as he saw his change he started crawling over to me.   
‘Boy!’ The Viking grabbed him with his hair pulling him so hard back that I saw Hendric grab to his own head in pain.   
‘Please don’t do this.’ I started begging, curled up to the ground, looking towards Hendric while he was looking at me. The Viking before us made a slitting gesture with his knife over his own throat. ‘No!’   
‘Don’t say a word Edlynn.’ Hendric shouted while they pulled him up. He started to put up a fight, kicking one in the face … what hardly did any damage before they overthrew him again. One caught Hendric with his hair, pulling his face up before cutting a nice line horizontal over his neck. Everything shattered inside of me when I saw the blood pouring out. Hendric looked at me in that last moment before the Viking let go of his hair and he felt into the grass. I started crawling, fighting against the Viking that tried to keep me on my place.   
‘What is the meaning of this?’ I hardly attended the voice, I didn’t understand it anyway. But they let go of me and I crawled over to Hendric, trying to save his life I knew that couldn’t be saved.   
‘No, please.’ I begged, my head resting on his shoulder while my chest cramped together in pain.  
‘Who is she?’   
‘A slave, we found them both in the shed.’ They communicated with each other. I made my head loose from Hendric’s death body and slowly looked up. Four hooves, two strong wooden wheels, an leather armored horse with a red soaked chariot behind. Two arms crossed resting over the egde of the chariot before I got to his face. Dark hair, shaved both sides and braided in the middle.   
‘She isn’t a slave,’ he spoke in your common language. And he wasn’t just any Viking. I looked into those eyes, bleu, the most purest bleu I ever saw in my life. ‘she’s a princess.’ He said, softly, something of a darkness spreading over his lips. And he was a Ragnarsson.


	4. Fear the fearless

Don't be a fool. Recognize your dependence on God.   
As the days become dark and the nights become dreary,   
realize that there is a God who rules above. 

 

Fear never overpowered my body before. Yes, I felt fear for others, for my father when he raged into battle or for my brother when he got injured in training. But for my own life I never feared before. I never had to doubt the sanity of my soul, I never had to beg God for anything. And now, I just did it all. I held on to Hendric his dead body while his blood smeared my dress. Surly I saw people die before but never somebody so close to me. And here I sat, crying over a body that got every second a little less warmer. His clothes pulled together in my fists I felt a certain anger brewing on the inside of me. But following that chariot up to the young Viking looking at me I wasn't sure if anger was the way to express my feelings. Instead I just froze on the spot, looked down again to the man who colored my life for months now. And they just pulled him away from me, they just killed him, no bargain, no explanation, just stating the obvious, he was a soldier of my father and he needed to die. In the end I would blame myself for this but right now I felt nothing other than that emptiness, that sadness and that fear for what my faith would hold. I didn't spoke the words but I was praying, praying to the lord above, hoping he would grant me mercy for which I always were a loyal follower in his faith.

'Get her up!' I didn't understand his command but giving that two men walked over to me it had to mean my faith wasn't any better than de man lying dead on the ground.   
'No.' I pulled loose, falling over my own feet while I wanted to run off. Their laughter made my chest unsteady in breathing, adrenaline rooting my fear throughout my whole body. They grabbed me by my arms and pulled me back up. What was the point fighting if they were so eager with me? My hand clenched around the necklace around my neck while they dragged me over to the chariot. I felt the fingers pressing down in my upper arms, knowing they would leave marks on my pale skin afterwards.   
'Tell me your name.' The young man in the chariot began again. My eyes kept looking down, looking at the red carved into the wood of that chariot, reminding the words the priest had said; you are the princess of Deira, know that you are in a very dangerous position ... and here I stood. Fear shut down my ability to speak, made my body incoherent for the forces around me. I felt a hand around my throat, a thumb pushing my chin up so I was forced to look up in the impatient his eyes had. I knew him by name, I knew what the priest said about it, how there was something with that boy. Ivar ... feeling that kind of realization must change something in my eyes because he titled his head hardly inches, squeezing his eyes a little together. 'You already know who I am.' He guessed. So many things in those deep blue pools, hatred, stubbornness but most of all some satisfaction for what he just guessed. 'Is it not?' He squeezed his hands a little tighter around my throat and I swallowed, feeling how difficult it became to breath.   
'Yes.' I answered, hoarse. His grip softened, his eyes traveled down to my throat while I felt his fingers stroke that delicate skin until he moved his grip to the back of my neck. I had the urge to pull away but I knew that it would kill me in the end. I had to believe in what the priest had told me that I was more value alive than I maybe was dead. 'Ivar. You are Ivar the Boneless.' I hardly whispered but it was enough for him.   
'Is that all you know?' He asked. Giving he was a pagan his tongue spoke quite fluent our language. I nodded, looking to the ground again, not wanting to look up to the man that was here to take more than only my lover. He was here to take over Deira and with me as his hostage I could become a very easy task. 'Take her.' He commanded, loosening his grip around my neck while the others pushed you into the muddy trail his chariot made in departure. They just left Hendric there, they dragged his dead body into the bushes so it would be a little harder to find him. But who would be looking in the first place? I told my brother and father that I was unwell, they would leave me for the rest of the night. By that time I could already be miles away. Looking around give me nothing but more uncertainty. Surrounded by Vikings I knew there wasn't any way I could escape. They all looked at me like they didn't saw a woman before, like they wanted to tear off that dress to leave me vulnerable and naked. My only hope, my only prayer was that the man in the chariot, Ivar ... would be merciful enough to treat me descent. But as I looked how his men react, as I looked how he looked over his shoulder to me with that smug grin on his lips, I knew my faith was lost. He wouldn't be any different than the stories that got around in all the kingdoms, that he would be just as cruel, just as ruthless.

I walked over two hours, after two hours I hardly felt something in my legs. The cold of the night didn't touch me while walking but as soon as I stood still I felt it lingering on my feet, eager to eat me up when my heartbeat settled a little more. When we arrived at a large forest I saw the tents, the fires beaconing the camp of this small group. Vikings turned away from their fire when they saw me passing by, I heard their strange language, they laughter, somebody touched me at my side, fingers gripping into my skin. I shivered, an empty tear rolling down my cheek when I stopped in the large chain of Viking warriors. I didn't look up, I looked at the ground towards the crushed down moss that covered the forest grounds. From underneath my eye lashes I saw Ivar exchange some words, the man aside the chariot nodded, gesturing the two Vikings on my side to follow them. I withstood the pain getting through my arms when their grip tightened again. They pulled me into a tent, forced me down, tied me up to a single pole. They didn't say a word, they probably couldn't speak my language anyway, before they left again. And as soon as I was alone I jerked my head around, looking for something I could use to get out of here. There was a bed, or at least something improvised to sleep on. My eyes rested on the axe leaning against it. I never used an axe before, Henric learned me a trick or two with a sword and dagger but an axe. When I looked down to my tied up wrist I realized that it would never work. And it I had a change ... it was already to late for that body dragged himself inside the tent. If I couldn't fight for Deira than I had to silence myself for giving information, knowing that I didn't looked him right in the eyes but to his legs he had to pull in on his arms. How could he even survive in this world with that?   
'Never seen a cripple before?' He asked. I looked away, doubting my changes to get into his head in some way to just get away afterwards. He chuckled, letting his head hang for a moment, like he just realized something before crawling closer. I pressed my hands against my chest, fingers looking for the little cross around my neck. He pulled a knife and I tensed. He just smiled, cutting through the ropes that restrained me. 'You can run off if you want.' He gestured to the exit of the tent. I still kept my hands against my chest, looking to the ropes hanging loose around it before I looked towards the exit of the tent. He let me go? How? I looked back to him, confused. 'But,' and there it was. 'I told my men that if you exit this tent without me they can have you. I beth you never had a Viking man on that body of yours.' He went further, blue eyes carving his way over my slim build body. I swallowed, knowing the number of men that would be waiting out there. If I thought back on their manor of looking I already felt my legs squeezing together. They wanted me and I knew I couldn't leave this place. I looked slowly back up to him, to the pleased smile on his lips for what I just realized. 'You can please me instead. Tell me, how do I call you?' He asked, joyful almost. I really couldn't follow the mood he showed, it looked like he shade himself in a layer, showing things that he didn't truly felt. I just kept my eyes down, praying for myself in the hope I could ignore his presents. 'Christians.' He signed, still sitting not far away from me. The dagger that cut my restrains, circled in the ground aside him, he looked at it and I dared to look back to him. 'I killed my brother a couple of days ago, don't have much patience left.' It was like he told me a bedtime story. He killed his brother. I didn't understand why he was telling me this before he grabbed my hand that still held on to the cross. It broke my necklace, the cross didn't leave my fist while he forced my hand with so much force down. My body followed, curling up right aside him.   
'Please.' I begged softly. He peeled my fingers open, revealing the silver cross in the palm of my hand.   
'Don't have Christians not such a punishment.' He thought out loud, laying his hand flat over mine so I couldn't curl my fingers back in. He stroke my hand with his thumb, looking at the cross that laid on my fingers. 'Nailing people to a cross?' He looked aside to me and my eyes got larger when he grabbed to his dagger. 'No?'   
'Please, Ivar.' I begged again.   
'Little to late princess.' He warned me before pushing the tip of his dagger through the middle of my hand. I scream, grabbing for his arm while I tried to manage the pain shouting out. I felt every inch of my skin react on the dagger while he separated all of it, making a perfect good hole in my hand. I hid my head, not looking to what he was doing until he pulled that dagger back out in a swift movement. He stroke his hand over my cheek, pushing my blond hair after my ear. 'Shhhttt.' He shushed me. 'Hush.' His breath warmed my skin while his lips pressed softly against my ear. I was sobbing, tears running into the forest ground while I felt the pain expand through my fingers, my arm the whole way up. 'What's your name?' He whispered, tender, loving, like he pulled that façade of caring back up. I tried to control my tears before I could answer.   
'Edlynn.' I sobbed. His head rested aside my, I opened my eyes and looked into those bleu masquerade eyes.   
'Princess from?'   
'Deira, I'm the heir.'   
'Good girl.' His stroke the few strains of blond hair out of my wet face, smiling in a way I couldn't put an emotion on it before he pulled away, dragged himself over to the bed. I kept laying there, moving my head to look at the dagger that rested just aside my hand, to the blood shining his surface before I looked to the hole he carved into my hand. The little cross was blooded, I tried to close my fingers a little, they shaken so hard that it hardly worked out. I didn't want to move, I just looked at the blood dripping out of the wound before I looked back to Ivar who laid on the bed, covered underneath some fur. My body started to break down the adrenaline, causing the pain to hit in even harder but more the cold that finally started to take over my body. I waited for minutes, listening to the steady breath he produced before I started my prayer.   
'My lord, if you can hear me, please, I have always be faithful, always followed your path. If you just could lead the way to light, if you can give me strength within this darkness, don't abandon me for I have never abandon you.' It wasn't a whispering, it was hardly forming any words but my lips managed to get it out. Under my pain and tiredness, I hoped that God wouldn't forsake me in this ruthless world.   
'God can't help you here princess.' His voice was hardly loud enough, the soft whispering surrounding my body. It sounded so calm, so steady, like he was the most normal man in normal conditions. But he wasn't that man, he was my personal darkness and I was lost in it.


	5. The saint becomes a sinner,

_When all is said and done,_   
_the life of faith is nothing_   
_if not an unending struggle of the spirit_   
_with every available weapon against the flesh._

 

How could I hold on to hope? When all I was thinking of was the pain, the cold, the darkness. They said God is everywhere, even in the darkest hours of your life but it didn't felt like it. My body felt hollow, unsupported in its cause to stay alive and awake. It was like being here, in this pagan camp, that God wasn't getting trough their gods. I imagined myself that it could be like this, gods standing before each other, letting mine not trough while they protect their people. And as long as I whispered those prayers over my lips I believed that somewhere out there God was waiting for me. But it was so hard in the moment, the more hours the night stroke with his darkness the colder it got inside the tent. It came to a point that I needed to curl up my body, that the idea of running out of this dreadful place seemed appealing. Even if that meant his men would beat me, rape me. I got my hand wrapped up in a part of my cloak, pressed against my chest in the hope the pain would demeanor to a level it was bearable to life with. But it didn't, after an hour I felt the edges of the whole in my hand burn like I putted it willingly in a fire. Soft spots of blood started to color my dark cloak, pulling me out of my sleepiness every time I made a wrong move. It was like the whole extent of my arm was reacting on the pain, leaving me there to sit in the dark while listening to his steady breath. His silhouette was hardly something in the night, just a man sleeping. And yet, how light that figure looked now, how more I thought back of the moments in which I met him. He didn't react on my pain, he didn't even showed any compassion. What kind of a man just lost so much he grew distant? It wasn't that I wanted to know all the answers, but I needed something to spend the night with, so I did it with him while the outsides of the tent slowly turned silent for his man looked up some sleep to.

 

When the first strains of sunlight showed up I did a little effort by moving. My body felt so stiff and painful that it hardly had the capability to move at all. And my hand ... I looked down to the cloak that was wrapped around it before I slowly started to unwrap it. I felt that knot in my stomach again, when I looked at the wound in my hand. He did that, right through it, without hesitating, without thinking about my position. Maybe the priest said that I was from any value, but I started to doubt everything, even my own personality. I just to be more adventurous, more willing to take a risk, but all that I showed now was to be the scared little princess that lost her soldier. Hendric gave his life for me, just as any perfect fairytale should go in some way. My fingers turned pale, hardly capable to move under the pain getting through my veins. It stopped bleeding and just as I was trying to touch the wound his voice snapped me right out my thoughts. 'Does it hurt much?' Something in his voice just mocked me with my situation. Did he care if it hurted? I slowly looked up from the wound to him. He positions his body at the edge, resting his elbow on his knee, resting his head in his hand while he looked at me.  
'Yes.' I just answered, knowing what he did to me last night I wasn't planning on forgetting my mistakes any time soon. I wanted to say more than only that but I lost my courage as soon as I looked at him. He seemed different than last night, more at ease? Like the rest did him some good.  
'Let me see.' He gestured me. It wasn't a command but it wasn't a friendly invitation to, although he sounded calm, I didn't disobey his words despite I wanted it so badly. I pushed my body up from the ground, walking over to the bed he was sitting on. I swallowed before extending my arm to him, showing him the hole he made in my hand. 'Sit.' He tapped the bed. I took a very deep breath, sitting down aside him before looking at my hand again, not willing to look at him from this close. He laid his hand underneath mine, I felt his rough skin against mine and I had the instinct to pull back. But it was the first thing he did, wrapping his fingers around my wrist so I couldn't pull back. With his other fingers he scouted the surface around the wound, trailing my fingers wherefore I almost shivered. 'I shouldn't have done that.' He whispered, for his own. What? I slowly made my eyes loose from the wound, looking aside to his face. He was still looking to my hand, not interested in meeting my gaze. I studied him, because I was curious somewhere deep inside. I followed his jawline, noticing the little scar right beside his eye, the way his head had a clear line to which there was hair and none. I thought he was black from hair, while from so close it was more very dark brown. He hide those blue eyes, by looking at my hand so I just recalled on his words, hoping it wouldn't get me killed for speaking up.  
'You regret it?' I asked carefully.  
'I regret a lot of things.' He just answered before letting go of my. I didn't dare looking at him because of the sharpness in his voice. Maybe there was some kind of humanity in this person, it just needed to stabilize. I pulled my hand back, looking down to the red edges around the wound, it would infect if I just left it like that, uncared. But it was not that I could demand for a physician, I hardly knew if they had some kind of a healer here. So it was Gods faith, if I should keep my hand or not. My eyes traveled away a little, to the belt he strapped around his legs. And here I was complaining over my hand while this man couldn't even walk.  
'Does it hurt?' The words slipped out without realizing the danger of them. His hands froze a little in his act of tying them together. In a quick gesture I looked up to his face.  
'Not as much as that hurts you.' He nodded to my hand with a tone that almost sounded spotting. He didn't wanted to talk about his legs, I wasn't even sure if he wanted to talk about anything. He slide himself from the bed to the ground and I looked to the way he pulled his body forward on his elbows. He must have very muscular arms, if he did that all the time.  
'Ivar,' I said, hardly loud enough, hesitating, insecure. I never felt like this before, like every word would be my last one. He looked annoyed when he stopped crawling, turning his body around so he sat up straight. His blue eyes pierced right thought mine and I swallowed, losing my courage in every second I look longer into those eyes.  
'What?' He asked, impatient.  
'You don't ask about Deira, his defenses, his soldiers, the secret passages. If I'm not here for that what am I here for?' I asked. He looked down to his hand, biting the nail of his thumb, smiling about my words. I didn't saw him smiling before, I hardly knew he was capable of it.  
'We are waiting princess.' He answered you honestly. I opened my mouth, confused for what he just said.  
'For what?' I asked hesitating.  
'To see what Deira has to offer, presuming they want you back alive.' The devilish smile trailing his lips made me shiver. He turned around, crawled himself out of the tent and left me behind again, in the cold and with the pain. I looked aside me to the bed, my good hand scouted the surface, feeling the warmth from where he laid not to long before. I looked back to the tent exit, knowing my faith when I would try to leave, before my eyes returned back to the bed. I softly laid down, meeting the smell of dirt, mixed under the sweat, the manly smell he carried around before I pulled a sheet over me. It was warmer than that pole, my body tried to relax, the pounding heat in my hand eased a little as I closed my eyes, hoping this was all a dream.

 

 

I waked up by the soft feeling from a strain of hair stroking out of my face. It was an almost tender feeling and I could see Hendric just doing it. I always wanted to wake up beside him some day, so with the thoughts of meeting his light green eyes I opened my eyes. But it wasn't Hendric I met, it were those distinct blue eyes of the cripple Viking leader. From this close by it looked like an ocean, a stormy one, with dark clouds and bad weather. I felt his two fingertips still resting against my temple, stroking the strand of hair I lost even further. 'Wake up princess.' He whispered, amused. That just snapped me right out of the sleep I was heaving. I pulled my head away from his touch, pushed my hands under my body and totally forgot the wound I had. His laugh filled the tent when I almost fell back onto the bed by the pain that centered my attention. I managed to get up, getting myself all the way back to the pole. 'Was it warm?' He asked, ignoring the driven fear in my eyes.  
'What?'  
'My bed.' He gestured. I looked at the bed, biting my lip, in now state to answer that question. When my heart found a little of his steady rhythm back I noticed the things in his lap, herbs, some kind of fabrics, an ointment. He petted the bed again, gazing at me with that absorbing amusement. My good hand clenched around the little cross before I stood slowly up again, walking over to sit by his side. 'Give me your hand.' He gestured. I looked away, giving him my hand again. I almost jumped up from the cold his hands hand, reminding me how warm I had it not long ago. He started to take some herbs, tearing little pieces from it.  
'What's that?' I asked carefully.  
'A sign my gods willing to help you.' He just answered, putting them in his mouth to chew on it. He lifted my hand a little up and before I even could pull back he spit the content of his mouth into my hand. I hold back on pulling my nose up, just looked how he pushed his fingers into the ointment. His eyes went shortly to my neck, to the cross I still held on to. 'Tell me something Christian princess.' He began as he stroke my fingers out over his lap. I felt something bony, his legs? I hardly dared to look to his legs so I shifted my eyes to his.  
'About what?' You presumed he asked about Deira.  
'About your God.' He nodded to the little cross.  
'I would be a sin to tell somebody over our God if he isn't believing in it.' I managed to get out, softly.  
'Sin.' He repeated for his own, turning his head to look right at me. 'Are you a sinner?' He asked, joyful, my eyes pulled to his lips, to the corner that tugged up a little before I looked back into that chaotic ocean.  
'Yes, I have sinned.'  
'By?' He asked intrigued.  
'Disobeying the authority of my king, my father. Loving a man that isn't mine to love,' my voice cracked by thinking of Hendric and the ruthless way he died. Ivar wrapped a fabric around my hand after he smeared the ointment out over the wound. It stung but the ointment release a little of the pain. I didn't looked back at him, my thoughts were with Hendric and how he must lay there in the cold, a stone hard body ready to be found by his friend, his companion soldiers.  
'You will sin a lot in the days to come princess.' He pulled his hand up, fingers eager to stroke my skin again but I pulled away from it, not looking to his face. He chuckled, falling from the bed to the ground before dragging himself back outside.  
'Edlynn,' I began, looking for those eyes of him. 'My name is Edlynn.' I repeated. I wouldn't be a princess anymore, not if it depended on him.  
'Edlynn.' He repeated my name for the very first time. He watched me, in a whole different way before he pulled himself out side. A soft lingering crawled down over my body, leaving that moment behind in my mind. The way he said my name for the first time, the way in which he looked, the way with which tone he said it. Edlynn ... I was Edlynn, princess of Deira, I had God by my side but I lost my faith. Why did I lost my faith? Edlynn, I heard it again in the back of my head and I shivered, covering myself under the cloak, praying for the lord. I couldn't lose faith.


End file.
